


and wish her joy in the knowledge that her child will live

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Children of the Star - Sylvia Louise Engdahl
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childbirth, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Medical Trauma, Physical Disability (discussed)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: Talyra and the baby live. This changes nothing and everything.
Relationships: Noren/Talyra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	and wish her joy in the knowledge that her child will live

**Author's Note:**

  * For [primeideal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/gifts).



> For obvious reasons, this story quotes some passages of _The Doors of the Universe_ chapter one, since that is the point of divergence. It also contains societal attitudes toward physical and mental disability that may be upsetting to readers, but which I think are the logical consequence of the culture Engdahl portrays in the series.

The door to the nursery area slid back and Beris emerged, still wearing the ceremonial blue robe of priesthood over her work clothes. She blocked Noren's way as he stepped forward.

"You can't go in yet," she said.

Noren tried to see past her, into the rooms where Talyra waited. "Brek said the baby was stillborn. I can't abandon Talyra, not now."

"The child wasn't stillborn," Beris said, still standing in Noren's way. Her arms spread to fill the doorway, as if she'd stopped halfway through lifting them in a gesture of blessing.

"Then what else could be wrong?" Perhaps something had been crushed or torn as the baby moved from Talyra's body into the world? But there was no reason for Beris to shelter him from seeing Talyra injured. All villagers were familiar with the cuts and breaks that hard labor and splintered stone tools could cause, and Talyra wouldn't refuse his presence through misplaced pride. She and Noren had seen each other in unimaginably worse condition in the mountains.

Beris kept her voice steady as she said, "The child was born crippled. He has no true feet and his legs below the knee are soft, like the bones are made only of cartilage. He'll never walk."

"And Talyra?"

Beris stepped free from the doorway, which slid shut behind her. She placed one hand on Noren's shoulder, as Brek moved forward in silent support on Noren's other side. "Talyra is asleep from the drugs and hypnosis. She nearly bled to death from tearing, and the doctor won't let her wake until morning, to give her body time to adjust to the fluid loss and the shock of seeing the child's legs. You need to calm yourself so that when she wakes, you can give her comfort instead of asking her to comfort you."

\-----

Noren was never certain, later, how Brek and Beris returned him to the tiny room he shared with Talyra. But they got him to the lift and through the door, and sat on the narrow couch while he sank onto the bed and wept.

He was not certain, either, why he wept. Talyra lived! The child lived! To have them saved from so close a brush with death was surely a reason for joy. And how could a child with a mere physical fault be a source of sorrow when the alternative, which had lurked in the corner of his dreams for months, was for the baby to be born mindless like the savages in the mountains? The High Law was clear that no such fault made a person lesser than any other: all were children of the Mother Star and all must both support and be supported by their communities.

And yet, even those who followed the letter of the Law often twisted its spirit. What kind of life could a boy or a man have in a village -- for the child must be given out for adoption, as with all children of the Inner City -- if that boy could not walk? Noren considered his own childhood on his family's farm, and imagined if he had been unable to join in the work of planting and harvesting. He shuddered at the thought of his brothers' likely reactions. They had disliked him enough as merely an unenthusiastic daydreamer. How much worse if he had been unable to farm at all?

Of course farming was not the only option. A man didn't need legs to carve stone, or to shape clay. He would not even need legs to drive workbeasts as they pulled a sledge. If he earned a position as a radiotelephone operator he could do that job entirely sitting down.

Even so, Noren's son would need to be carried from chair to chair, or from chair to sledge, unless he made his way by crawling within his house. On the Six Worlds, there had been wheeled chairs that could move both indoors and outside on roads less well-maintained than the sanded roads between villages, or crutches made of metal, plastic, or wood that let people with injured or missing limbs support themselves through some approximation of walking. No such options were possible on this world.

But no one could weep forever. Eventually Noren rubbed his eyes, which were hot and sticky, and drank the mug of pure water that Brek had obtained at some point while Noren was lost in his thoughts and his inexplicable grief.

"Was it for nothing, then, what we suffered in the mountains?" he said. "All Talyra's faith that we would be rescued? She gave me hope that there could be meaning and purpose in life, and now chance nearly killed her and our son. How can anyone have faith in a universe where things like this happen?"

"Noren--" Beris said.

"Did it happen on the Six Worlds, too?" Noren interrupted bitterly. "Or could they prevent it there, the mothers bleeding and the children born sick or crippled?"

Beris sighed and set her hands on her blue robe, which she had taken off and folded into a neat square on her lap. "I suppose men don't absorb all that I did from the dreams the Founders recorded... but you do know it wasn't the same as here. I mean, people didn't have the same feelings about children or sterility--"

Noren nodded.

"Well," Beris went on, "it was the custom there for women to be seen by doctors, not just during delivery, but all through pregnancy. They knew a long time ahead if things weren't going right. Women could take special care if they knew they were at risk, even delivering babies with surgery instead of naturally. Parents could make plans to care for children who might need machines to let them move or perceive or communicate normally, or who might need special medicines to treat inherited diseases. But even they couldn't cure everything. Some mothers still died, and some children were born with faults. And if a pregnancy was judged likely to kill the mother, or if the child wouldn't be able to survive after birth, they were-- terminated."

Noren clutched the empty mug, speechless. Brek, aghast, murmured, "You mean deliberately? They killed unborn children?"

"Not often, not once they had sure contraceptives. But to save a mother's life, or to give a quick and painless death to a child that would otherwise have died slowly and in pain? Yes."

"How could they have let that happen?" Noren demanded. "With all their resources, how could anyone let that go on? And here on this world, with each child so much more important, how could they not work even harder to make each birth safe?"

Beris shrugged helplessly. "Their methods require too much metal for us to sustain. Even without that, birth _is_ safer here. The Founders were screened to make sure they weren't carrying defective genes. But no system is perfect. Even the healthiest person can have a bad fall, or be exposed to a poison, and I suppose pregnancy is similar. Sometimes things just go wrong."

"No, there must have been a reason," Noren said, an idea slowly growing in his mind. "In the mountains, we didn't drink enough impure water to cause the mutation that produces savages, but we give smaller doses of medicine to children than to adults because an adult dose is too strong for them. What if we were exposed to traces of something that was too weak to affect us, but strong enough to harm the child? It could be anything: stronger sunlight at high altitudes, the impure water, some chemical in the rock dust, or-- the radiation from the artifact Talyra found."

The artifact he had made her turn on and then carry to a place where it might attract attention from the City.

"This is my fault," he said. "I almost killed Talyra, again! I crippled our child. How can I face her when she wakes? I can't let her believe it's her fault, not like she'll assume."

"It's no one's fault," Brek said.

"You can't know that!"

"We can have faith," Beris said. "That's what Talyra will tell you, too. Noren, you need to sleep. In the morning you can see Talyra and your son. You can prepare to preside over the Thanksgiving for Birth. You can ask the computers every question you can think of to learn what might have gone wrong with Talyra's pregnancy. Staying awake and blaming yourself does no one any good."

The Thanksgiving for Birth! Noren had forgotten that entirely, first in his worry that Talyra's labor was taking too long, and then in the shock of Beris's report of her near death. But Talyra would expect him to officiate, to speak the words of blessing and thanks.

_"The blessing of the Star's spirit has been bestowed upon her, for she has given herself freely in love and in concern for the generations on which its light will fall. Now in their name we acknowledge their debt to her, and wish her joy in the knowledge that her child will live among those whose heritage we guard as stewards."_

How could he speak those words truthfully when no blessing had truly been given? When what should have been a time of unalloyed joy was muddied with pain and new fears for the future?

"I don't know if I can," Noren said.

"Would a hypnotic suggestion help?" Beris asked.

After a moment of confusion, Noren realized she had misunderstood and thought he was speaking of sleep, not the Thanksgiving for Birth. He opened his mouth to correct her, then paused. Would she understand his reservations? Would it do any good to discuss them with her and Brek when Talyra was the one who would ultimately guide his choice?

"Yes, thank you," he said. He set the mug down on the plastic container that held his and Talyra's clothes and stretched lengthwise on the bed. The mattress was narrow and thin, barely the size of what villagers considered adequate for a single person, let alone a married couple, and yet it felt empty and cold without Talyra's warm body at his side.

He would make this right for her, Noren thought. Somehow, some way, he would take Talyra's faith and make it true. He would bring purpose and meaning out of their suffering, as all Scholars worked to bring a new birth for their people out of the dark centuries of ignorance and doubt.


End file.
